


something they don’t know

by jrangel



Series: ask me anything [5]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2018-11-03 04:09:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10959357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jrangel/pseuds/jrangel
Summary: Alexander Hamilton doesn’t need any help ruining his own life.





	1. Alexander

 

It starts out like this.

Thomas tells Alex that he’s leaving— not _leaving_ leaving, not like for good, but for seven weeks at the President’s request. 

It's a lot to take in.

Washington wants Thomas to lead the advocacy talks for the implementation of an alpha bill similar to their own in France, and it’s completely necessary and totally not a thing Alexander would ever dream of discouraging his alpha from doing, like he’d even have a right to, because this is the sort of thing they’ve talked about often over the years, the compilation of hours on hours of hard work baring fruit in a cornucopia of opportunities that have sat out of reach for his partner up until now. 

But Alex is left alone and that part of the arrangement is less than ideal.

To his credit, Thomas does what he can to make the transition bearable.

Long, chattering phone calls bookended by steamy, but awkward Skype sessions, Alex whining into his webcam as he squeezes his pinky alongside the other digits jammed into his clenching hole, Thomas murmuring a litany of filth through the screen, his own hand wrapped tightly around his straining member. From his hotel bed, the poorly pixelated image of his alpha gazes up at Alexander with starved eyes, tells him that he’s being good, reminds the omega how desperate he gets when he watches Alexander fall apart just so, crows in a delightfully husky voice what he would give to be there with him right now.

And for those first couple weeks, it’s enough to curb his longing and Alex can bring to mind their bond with fondness rather than fear. But June arrives and their schedules are thrown into chaos and Thomas loses track of their intimate time entirely. Alex thinks that he would have perhaps dealt with the loss a little better if the alpha’s calls home hadn’t been displaced in the process as well. That’s not to say that communication between them comes to a halt, but it becomes something rushed, these stolen moments between meetings or at odd hours of the night that leave Alexander craving more.

He doesn’t torture himself by keeping tabs on his alpha beyond a few texts back and forth every day, but loneliness has Alexander resorting to things he never thought himself capable of. He buries his face into a worn sweatshirt he shamelessly lifts from Thomas’s hamper when the tug for his alpha grows particularly strong, nosing at the scent of smoke and heat woven into the fabric longingly. He can’t cum without it draped across his face and strokes himself off with a sort of detached desperation. 

There’s no one to blame but himself, he supposes.

This is what happens when you make homes out of people and without Thomas at his side, Alexander feels like he’s floating, but it doesn’t feel like freedom, it feels like he’s been cut adrift, made tame and then released with no means of survival, and no matter how fiercely he clings to the pillow from Thomas’s side of the bed or sinks his face into his alpha’s clothing, he can’t seem to ground himself, can’t conjure up the spirit of what Thomas has indebted him to, and it’s left him reeling. He lays awake, fingernails dug into the meat at the base of his neck, biting into the scar tissue left behind from the blunt teeth of his bondmate, the reminder the only thing that can get him to finally let go and sleep through the night.

He’s not sure how much longer he can manage to endure through the frustration of this extended absence, the only relief for his ailment too far to touch. He’s grown too use to the sound of his bondmate’s voice without the addition of sight or skin and talking to Thomas on the few occasions that they manage only seems to exacerbate the issue.

It’s week four when Alex says, with no uncertainty, with no filter or subtlety, “I miss you. I’m falling apart without you.”

There’s no subtext. It’s how he feels, plain and simple.

And Thomas, sweet and lovely and perfectly unaware of the cracks forming underneath Alex’s feet, of the tears in his heart, replies simply, “I miss you too.”

It’s a response that makes Alexander feel painfully vulnerable, flayed open from throat to navel, and yet somehow entirely ignored. It steals his breath in a way that nothing else before has ever accomplished.

That’s when resentment begins to bubble ugly in his heart, that’s when the self-loathing emerges.

Thomas is supposed to know because it’s Thomas who made him weak. Made him like this. 

And who is he without Thomas?

He’s not sure he knows.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of ran out of steam with this series, it's the longest I've ever stayed with a single idea, but I had created an outline for this final story and am going to try my best to finish it. Fingers crossed! Go team.


	2. Thomas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Jefferson is coming home.

 

When he steps down on American soil again for the first time in almost two months, Thomas heaves out a sigh of relief.

The trip had been everything he could have hoped for, successful in every interpretation of the word. Washington had seemed ecstatic by their progress in his correspondence and Lafayette had assured him that come the vote in parliament, their baby would have the support it needed.

Despite all that, it had been exhausting being away from his omega for so long, their bond strained and tender from the distance and desperate to reconnect with his bondmate, Thomas makes the trip back to their New York apartment in record time, pushing his way into their entry way, blood thrumming with the prospect of once again being with his omega.

“Alex?” He calls, dropping his keys into the small bowl sitting on a mantle by the door.

A crash comes from their bedroom and Thomas watches with unfettered amusement as Alexander comes scrambling out into the hallway, wide-eyed and hair askew in his excitement.

“You’re back!” He shouts, tearing across the room and under Thomas’s outstretched arm. The alpha huffs out a small gasp on impact, Alexander’s enthusiasm catching him by surprise as the omega collides forcefully with his gut. “Jesus, thank fuck you’re back.” 

Thomas tries to respond but he losses himself in the closeness, and so they cuddle just like that for a few uninterrupted minutes, scent marking and pressing affectionate kisses wherever they can reach, their actions tinged with an energy that sits on the edge of being frantic. When the urge to press closer has simmered into something bearable, Thomas pulls back to catch sight of Alexander’s face, but his partner doesn’t comply with the unspoken request and tries to burrow further into Thomas’s chest.

“Missed me, huh?” He asks teasingly

Alexander’s gaze flits upward and the smile he flashes is oddly hollow, a wall of bared teeth behind which something wounded hides, just out of sight.

“Everything okay?” He sets his bags down by the door and studies the other man for a moment, made unsure by the strange reaction. Something is up, but he can’t put his finger on exactly what.

Instead of answering right away, Alex presses further into his embrace, like he’s instinctively trying to squash the awkwardness that’s inadvertently bloomed between them. He’s close enough that it’s not difficult to huff in another quick lungful of his omega’s scent, soothed momentarily that at least that hasn’t changed, still crisp and bright and familiar. It’s reassuring as it is confusing. Alexander’s scent gives nothing away.

“Everything’s fine.” Alexander murmurs after a beat. He keeps the alpha close, doesn’t allow Thomas the mobility to pull back further than the few inches to allow their eyes to meet, clinging and insistent. “Missed you.”

There it is again; that unsettling sensation that Thomas has overlooked something important. He doesn’t have the words to explain, so he doesn’t question it just yet, chalks it up to stress and clutches Alexander just a little bit tighter. “I missed you too.”

“Wanna show me how much you missed me?” Alexander crows and moves to snuffle against Thomas’s throat.

Thomas chuckles. “Naughty. I only just put my bags down.”

Alex smiles along the column of his alpha’s throat and imparts a gentle kiss before pulling back. “Unless you brought me back some kind of kinky French dildo, I could give a shit about your bags, my love.”

Thomas laughs and realizes it is the first time in weeks that he has done so genuinely and the thought is oddly sobering. A purr creeps up in his chest. “I’m really glad to be home.”

He smiles even as he can tell Alexander is still holding something back. That sadness he caught in his lover’s gaze, it isn’t going away. It’s settled in the omega’s eyes. “You okay?” he asks again, just in case, thinking that maybe he can weedle the truth from his partner’s lips if he just asks the right amount of times.

And to his luck, Alexander inhales sharply looking caught, and gives him more than a one-word reassurance, which is in itself a victory. “I think I’m overwhelmed. I had a hard time adjusting to— well, to everything. The bond, John Adams has been a decided prick as of late, and the… the fucking debt bill is still kicking my ass.”

The omega pauses and admits in a quiet voice. “And the distance sucked, you know?”

Thomas cards fingers through his bondmate’s hair, guilt rising in his throat like acid. He knows the trip had been tough on the omega, berates himself for not having done a better job keeping them afloat. “Oh baby, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Alex says, and there’s a certain forcefulness to the words that feels oddly misplaced.

Before he can think to address it further, Alexander slots their lips together, opens himself so sweetly, tugs at Thomas lips like he’s begging him inside and nips when Thomas isn’t quick enough to follow through.

The omega pulls back eventually, but his fingers are like furled claws in the alpha’s jacket, his fathomless eyes glassy with exhaustion. “What matters is you came back.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this ready in the chamber and apparently don't know how to exhibit restraint! Also, be aware that between POV shifts there are also time jumps, at least some of the time. I think I provide enough context that labeling the then/now isn't exactly necessary, but we'll see. Thanks for reading!


	3. Alexander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander's tired, he's weary, stressed, and in need of a break. Longing for his bondmate, missing his touch, that's when someone new wanders into his life.

 

There’s a new intern at the office.

She’s beautiful, and she clearly knows she’s beautiful, and a part of Alexander thinks that maybe that’s all she knows. 

It hardly matters.

He misses Thomas. Coming home to an empty bed is exhausting and avoiding himself has always been something he’s only been able to achieve by losing himself in someone else.

So he begins spending late nights at the office.

It’s then that he discovers that the new intern stays late too.

He asks why one night and at first she’s cagey with her answer, flits around it like it’s got teeth and she’s wary of falling victim to the sharp edges.

In the end it all comes spilling out of her.

As it turns out, her husband is the mean type, the hot and cold type, the keeps you guessing type, the guy that yanks the ground from underneath you when you’re not playing ball, but trips you up even when you are.

She says she’s new to the area and that she hasn’t really met anyone outside of work yet. She laments that she has no friends or family she can turn to. 

Alexander, embarrassed that they’ve delved so far into her life without it coming up yet, asks her for her name, aware that she is already well aware of his own.

Maria, she tells him. Mrs. Maria Reynolds.

She asks him if it would be all right if she got his number, just in case, and there isn’t a part of Alex that screams loud enough that this might not be as innocent as he’s forcing himself to believe because in the end he relents. 

A new contact sits in his phone.

He keeps the name tab blank.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short, but it's something!


	4. Thomas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas gets his eyes on the new intern and suspects something is up.

 

They’ve got the weekend together and whatever weirdness permeating the air between them eases into the background as they reacquaint themselves with each other. Alexander is soft and warm against him as they laze around in bed the next day, Thomas’s arm slowly dying beneath the omega’s weight where he’s wrapped his cuddlier than usual bondmate up in his limbs. He doesn’t care. It’s worth the pins and needles he’ll shake away later.

They stay hidden in muted light, the curtains starving them of the sun only hinted at from beyond the walls of their bedroom. It feels dark and separate from the rest of the world, like they are the only two souls left, and for all Thomas knows and cares they could be. And it’s nice because what matters is this, them, here. 

Something about how good Thomas feels strikes him as unfair.

Because how do you extend such a perfect moment? Transform one moment into a series of moments. And even then, what measure of time, what accumulation of moments, would ever be enough?

Thomas bends down and kisses the gentle curve of Alexander’s belly and hopes in vain for the answer, all the while clever fingers card through his hair.

He’s in the best mood he’s been in in awhile and it’s supremely pleasing when the momentum of his joy carries into his first day back on the job. He’s chatting amicably with Adam’s by the water cooler when Adam’s drops a bomb that has Thomas snorting so loudly in the hallway that heads jerk in their direction, faces painted with concern and bemusement.

“You’re bondmate got himself a girlfriend while you were away.” Adams reveals with sharp teeth and a goading tone.

Thomas slaps a hand over his face just in case he embarrasses himself further, his mirth bubbling over at the absurdity of the statement. 

“That so?” He asks, freeing his mouth only to giggle childishly, still unabashedly tickled. “He traded in for a newer model?”

It’s then that the doors to Alex’s office swing open and Thomas looks up to warn his bondmate against sneaking away for another coffee from the break room, but his bondmate is not who appears in the doorway. 

Instead, a young woman emerges and Thomas’s eyes light up with curiosity. 

She’s extremely pretty, he notices almost involuntarily.

“There she is.” Adams croons, huffing out a quiet laugh of his own. “Old model, meet new model.”

Wearing a calf-length, tight black skirt with tights that still somehow make obvious the tone of her long, shapely legs, paired with a vivid red top that cuts a flattering V between her breasts, she glides through the hallway with the air of someone who is well aware of the picture they make. Her hair is pulled away from her soft, oval face into a simple ponytail that has her curls spilling artfully along the back of her neck. She passes them as she disappears into the supply room, a stack of folders wedged under her arm. She’s a beta as far as Thomas can tell. Smells of nothing in particular, but as Thomas inhales again, a faint, lingering note of his omega catches his attention.

“You're serious.” Thomas breathes, wapping Adams lightly on the arm. “What’s her story?”

“She’s here to provide staff-wide support, but obviously no one informed Hamilton because he has her at his beck and call to the point that no one else can even request a goddamn coffee from her.” Adams rolls his eyes, exasperation contorting his features. “She lets him get away with it too. I think she’s worried that if she doesn’t Hamilton will wilt like the delicate flower he is.”

Thomas snorts. Delicate, his partner is not. Although, he has to admit, Alexander's self-care practices did leave something to be desired.

He concedes. “How he functioned before I came along still remains a mystery. Speaking of which, I should probably go make sure he hasn’t stuck a finger in an electrical socket.”

Adams wishes him luck and they part ways, Thomas setting a direct course for his bondmate’s office. Quietly letting himself in, Thomas soaks in the sight of Alex hard at work, his fingers flying across the keyboard of his laptop as he types at a furious pace.

“Adams tells me you’ve been an absolute terror these past couple months," he remarks eventually, drawing closer to the other's desk. "That is decidedly counter to what you told me.” He wanders behind his omega and drapes himself along Alex’s back, resting his check against his bondmate’s. “Now who should I believe?”

Alex scoffs, eyes never leaving his screen. “Belief is no substitute for knowledge, darling. And I have hard evidence that Adams has been an absolute fuck-stick since you left. Do you need me to present my case, Mr. Secretary?”

Nuzzling against his partner, Thomas chuckles. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Secretary.”

He continues laving Alex with loving touches, mindlessly snuffling at Alex’s throat.

“Hey.” Alex shifts restlessly in his arms. “You’re doing it.”

“Doing what?” Thomas asks dumbly.

“Clingy.” Alex scolds without any real heat. “Bad alpha.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t thought he had been overdoing it. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Alex returns easily and his attention shifts back to his screen without another glance. “But also, shoo. I’m busy.”

“All right.” Thomas whines, untangling himself. He’s loathed to separate from the warmth of his omega, but he’s not about to disrespect Alex’s request for space either. “But before I go, Laurens sent an invite for drinks tonight, did you get it?”

Alex hums distractedly. “Yeah. Um, yes to drinks tonight. I should be done with all this by the end of the day.”

Thomas beams. “Great.”

He gets sidetracked by the sight of Alexander’s lips, gets locked onto the pretty shade of pink and leans down for a taste, but the omega turns just before Thomas can breach the distance and his mouth lands on his cheek instead.

“Good things come to those who wait,” Alexander chides lightly, a joking note in his voice, but Thomas thinks he catches something dark flicker through his eyes. “Now off with you.”

Thomas takes the hint and reluctantly bows out of Alex’s office as requested, flustered by the denial and unsure of what to make of it.

They’ve teased each other plenty in the past, withheld certain things in order to heighten the experience later, but this wasn’t that. Alexander had never shied away from simple affection in such a way before, and after the weekend they’d just shared together, Thomas was getting whiplash.

There’s the obvious inclination to retreat into his office and return to work, but he ignores it, and steers himself in the direction of the supply room instead. He’s hopeful that an introduction to Alexander’s new admirer will lift his spirits, will provide a laugh, but the scene he’s greeted with sours his game almost immediately.

“Oh.”

Her voice is throaty, but quiet. 

Small. 

He thinks that if the copy machine were any louder it would drown her out completely and something about that is hard for Thomas to swallow. He’s startled her with his abrupt entrance, the whites of her eyes a sharp contrast to her pupils, pinpricks surrounded by deep hazel. Without a scent to give, the blankness of her face is difficult to read, but he’s not ignorant to the way her body jerks back, one hand flung out to clutch at the counter for support. 

This woman is clearly afraid. 

She’s also, understandably, wary of allowing her fear to breach the surface.

Even without the sour stench to clue him in, Thomas knows. The fear is palpable and Thomas immediately backs away. He doesn’t bow, he’ll never bow again, but he does hold a palm outward, entreatingly. A gesture that says ‘you’re safe’ or at least broadcasts loudly enough, ‘you’re safe from me’.

She eyes his hand without feeling.

He tries for an apology, keeping his voice soft, even. “Pardon me for barging in like that. I didn’t mean to catch you off guard.”

His words have an odd, immediate effect on her. 

Straightening her spine, the intern unfurls, throwing her shoulder back, and allowing a twist of a smile to grace her lips. 

And like that, another woman stands before him. 

But, she’s not another woman. 

It’s as if she’s placed a partition between them, her appearance obscured and distorted by the filter he’s suddenly forced to view her through. 

The posture, the pleasant hint of a smile, all of it to distract from the person she doesn’t want him to see.

“No need for apologies.” Her mouth quirks and she rolls her eyes playfully, as though mocking her own reaction, downplaying it, making it digestible for him. 

She’s too young to be this capable in the role she’s performing for him now.

“I was daydreaming.” She explains airily. She gestures vaguely to the printer “It takes so long to make copies of some of these bills for the staff. It’s so easy to lose track of time, and then well, my mind wanders.”

Thomas nods, wants to set her at ease, let her think that her disguise has fooled him.

“Dramatics aside, it is very nice to finally meet you, Secretary Jefferson.” She says politely, tilting her head demurely to the side. “I trust that your time in France was productive and enjoyable.”

“It was. Thank you.” He forces a smile. “And it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. …?”

“Maria Reynolds, sir.”

“Mrs. Maria Reynolds.” He tucks the name away for later. “I couldn’t help but notice that you were assisting Secretary Hamilton in his office earlier.” A slightly more genuine grin forms on his face and some of his own tension lessens by degrees. “Has he been treating you well? I know getting used to the flow of things around here can take a little adjustment. I just hope that he hasn’t been monopolizing too much of your time.”

Clearly taken, but too professional to let it show too plainly, Reynolds gushes in a restrained sort of way, her eyes radiating her admiration despite her best efforts. “Secretary Hamilton has been more than generous to me, sir.” 

She dips her chin and sways. “Some of the others have been somewhat impatient in comparison, but you can’t please everyone I suppose.”

Distressed by what he sees as more evidence in support of his suspicions ( _abuse_ , his mind whispers viciously, _monster_ , it sneers louder still), Thomas twitches, but forces his body into compliance. He doesn't know what he's really seeing. He doesn't know. But he suspects.

“I’m glad to hear that Alexander has made this a pleasant enough work environment, although I apologize for the rest of them.”

She laughs like she doesn’t understand why Thomas would care about such a thing.

“I am lucky at least that your bondmate is very kind.” She counters.

“That he is.” Thomas replies for a lack of a better response.

In the corner, the copy machine goes blessedly quiet.

“I should be going.” She announces as she turns to collect the contents from the tray. “It was a pleasure to speak with you so candidly, sir.”

“You as well, Mrs. Reynolds.”

Ever the Southern gentleman, Thomas holds the door open for her and let’s her slip away.

 


	5. Alexander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It starts innocently enough. It doesn't end that way.

 

They text.

They text a lot, actually.

With Thomas’s responses slowing to a decided crawl, Maria’s replies quickly become something Alex relies on to get through the days.

They’re well on their way to becoming friends, even if the label sits like in awkward weight in Alexander’s head because ‘friends’ isn’t quite right, but no other label is forthcoming. They relate, both of them vying for the attentions of someone else, and both of them settling for the attentions of each other for the meantime.

The more they talk, the more she opens up about her husband, how he punishes her for not giving him a child by never sparing her a moment of his time that isn’t ridden with derision or scorn. He’s a bitter, vindictive man, and the one thing he wants from her is something she can’t possibly provide. Infertile, she tells him, tears spilling down her face one evening, face hidden in a fan of her own fingers as she chokes on emotions that won’t sit still.

Alexander comforts her the best he can and reveals himself in pieces in return.

He starts small; sensitive to the line he’s already toeing at with an ever-increasing boldness.

It’s easy to complain about missing Thomas, but that just opens the floodgates and polite over-sharing veers sharply into the brazenly inappropriate with a frightening speed.

One night, apropos of nothing, Alex says, “I don’t get nearly enough credit for all the things I manage not to say,” and waits for the bait to be taken.

Maria, well-versed in his moods by this point, can tell when all he needs is a push in the right direction to loosen his tongue even further, and delighting in the shared experience of finding fault in their respective partners, she readily encourages him to contradict himself. “Like what?”

They’re in the process of retiring for the night. He stands, slumped in the doorway, and watches impassively as she folds documents into black binders on his desk.

“What do you know about the bond?”

She blurts out a few vague, clinical facts that fail to capture the thrum of need that sits, a constant, thick in his throat like an illness, then pauses and looks up at him expectantly. “What’s it really like?”

“Like addiction.” Alex digs his fingers into his claiming mark, and lets his nails bite unforgivingly into the flesh. “This past month has been a fucking nightmare. The distance? Fuck. It isn’t manageable. It’s debilitating. No one tells you that.”

She makes a small noise and he continues. “I didn’t know it would be like this. He’s gone and I fall apart as though I have no sense at all. What does that say about me? That I need someone like that? Like I couldn’t do any of this on my own? Have I become pathetic?”

He directs the question at her with a sincerity he wasn’t sure he felt until the words have left him, but now, looking into her sharp eyes, he knows the fear is real.

“I can’t not see him everyday. I can’t not be with him.” 

He should shut up. He needs to be quiet.

“How can someone dictate your life like that without your permission? This wasn’t a part of the promise I made. I just wanted him. I didn’t want this.”

“I know the feeling.” She murmurs once he’s quieted. She’s abandoned her work and turns toward where he stands at the mouth of his office, leaning her hips back against his desk, her posture weary. “The wanting hurts. When they want you back, it hurts. When they don’t, it hurts. You’re life’s not your own anymore and you wake up one day wondering when you were erased. Where did you go? Where did he?”

He’s caught on her words and doesn’t notice her approach until she’s got fingers on him. Maria reaches for his wrist, prying his hand away, and cups his palm tightly in her own. Little crescents burn like five tiny brands on the side of his neck.

Alex doesn’t pull away. Craves the distraction. Needs her to keep him from losing himself to something he can’t recover from. 

“Do you regret it?” She asks him in a hushed tone, eyes lowered to where their hands meet.

The notion of life without Thomas is not one worth contemplating, and Alexander’s heart clenches painfully. “No.”

“No. Me neither.” She agrees, but her words come out hollow.

He frees himself from her grip, the touch too intimate for him to bear, everything about the current situation too much for him to digest.

“Thanks for tolerating all my…” Alex trails off, embarrassed and hoping to minimize the messiness he’s just unloaded onto her, but Maria simply shrugs, doesn’t hold him to any of the deeply personal truths he’s carelessly unearthed in front of her, and returns to her folders.

“These things tend to grow when they’re left unsaid,” Maria murmurs softly, the streetlight casting an amber glow across her face. “If you need to talk, and you do need to talk about this Alex, all I’m saying is that I’ll listen, okay? You can talk to me about anything.”

The problem is he _should_ be talking to Thomas.

Still, Alex gobbles up her validation like it means something, even as guilt sits heavy in his chest, and he nods a little jerkily and they leave without him spilling anymore of himself out for her to examine.

Back home, Alex can’t pull up Thomas’s contact info quickly enough, waits in frenzied desperation as the dial tone rings. Thomas should be awake by now. Thomas should be answering. 

Why isn’t he answering? 

Three fucking days, they haven’t spoken and Alex needs his alpha now. He’s put on a brave face, but he can’t keep it going a second longer. So when the call goes to voicemail, Alex snarls, impossibly loud in the empty apartment. He dials again.

And he dials again.

On the third attempt, he’s unable to bite back the shriek that has been living inside him for weeks. 

He screams himself hoarse.

Sleep claims him eventually and the next morning he’s greeted by the chirp of his phone, but by then resentment and anger have taken hold of his tongue and he doesn’t say all the things he needs to and it’s another in a long line of conversations in which Alex hides the cracks from view.

He lets his hurt fester and hangs up, leaving Thomas with the delusion that he’s fine.

 

***

 

Tell me something, Maria texts him later that night as Alex lies alone in bed. 

_Unknown_ – I’m making myself ill again. 

_Unknown_ – I can’t obsess about him anymore. I just can’t.

It takes time to come up with something, but he does.

Thomas wants a baby and he’s afraid to admit it, he replies eventually.

He feels weird for having divulged something so unforgivably private, but it’s like with a single text a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. 

He waits for her reply.

 _Unknown_ – Why do you think that?

He couldn’t have one with his first bondmate and now it’s like there’s all this expectation because with me he can. 

He’s not even actively pushing for it, but it’s like this eventuality, this final destination that all paths lead to. 

And how long will it be until I tell him that that’s not something I’ll ever want? 

Even with him.

 _Unknown_ – He was mated before?

She was sick, she died.

She was his first everything. And how is that fair? All that pressure…

Would he even want me if he knew?

 _Unknown_ – It’s hard to say. There was a time when I would have said of course he would. But men are cruel and I’m not sure I have much faith in these types of thing anymore.

 _Unknown_ – I’m sorry if that’s not what you want to hear.

No, he types back.

It’s not. 

Don’t be sorry.

 

***

 

He gets a call.

Blindly reaching out for his phone on the nightstand, Alex answers and is greeted with the sound of sobs.

“He just fucking left.” She spits. “Goddamn it, Alex. What do I have to do? I did everything I could. I— Fuck!”

There’s the sound of glass shattering in the background.

“Can you come over? Please?” Another sob and Alex’s heart clenches with sympathy. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Give me the address.”

She greets him at the gate of her building wearing a simple nightgown that does nothing to protect her from the chill, eyes bloodshot from crying. She tugs him to her, hiding her face under his chin as a fresh wave of tears wrack her frame. 

“Why doesn’t he love me?” She cries, struggling to breath against the sobs. “I make it so fucking easy. I do everything.”

He pets her hair pack from her eyes, framing her face in his hands. “He’s a fool.”

“I love him.” She whimpers. “What does that say about me?”

He accepts her when she throws herself at him a second time and let’s her cry for a few uninterrupted minutes, before crowding her back into the building. “It’s cold. Let’s get you inside, okay?”

Maneuvering Maria up the staircase and into her cramp apartment is only made harder by the fact that she won’t let go of him even once they’re inside. Curling against his chest, she clings to Alex as though she’s afraid he might leave if she lets go for only a moment.

“Hey,” he huffs, lowering them both on the couch, letting his hands rest over where hers have taken refuge in the lapels of his coat. “I’m not going to run out on you tonight, okay?”

He rubs a cautious thumb over the back of her hand and is relieved when her grip loosens by degrees. Eventually, she nods, meets Alexander’s eyes and gives him a watery smile before standing, disappearing into the tiny kitchenette attached the living room.

“Would you like a drink?” she asks as she pours a dark amber liquid into one of two tumblers on the counter. “I have to admit this is not my first tonight.”

Her nose is red, but he can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or the crying now that she’s admitted to it. 

They knock back drinks at a startling rate, and it’s the kind of juvenile drinking that Alexander had watched with an eye of envy when he was younger and without the means to indulge in kind, but now he matches every finger of scotch Maria pours for him, and cares less and less about how sloppy he becomes as the liquor flows between them. He gets more comfortable, and in turn she gets more comfortable in his space.

And he allows it, maybe even encourages it.

And then her gaze lingers a few seconds too long on the curve of his arms, on his chest, his lips.

He can’t smell her. That alone makes it easier to forget that the arms holding him close are not those of his alpha, that the lips at this throat have no claim on him. She’s warm and gentle, and it’s almost enough to pretend that this is what he needed. 

It’s not, but it’s something.

She’s asks him if it’s all right.

He doesn’t say a word. 

He kisses her back anyway.

 

***

 

The next day, Alex tells her it was a mistake.

He looks her in the eye, hoping she will hear him as he says it. It’s a fine line he has to walk, being honest enough for her to take heed without being cruel enough to hurt her. But they’ve both crossed a line, and now the only thing that might save him are boundaries, and he needs to build them up quickly.

“This was a mistake.” He adverts his eyes as she sits up, the sheets pooling down at her waist. “I shouldn’t have done that. I took advantage—”

“Don’t.” She cuts him off sharply and he can hear the hurt in the same way he can hear the resignation in her voice. “Just don’t, Alexander.”

“If he knew, it would hurt him.” He says instead. “He’s the most important fucking thing in my life, Maria. I can’t—”

“Hush,” she interrupts. The mattress shifts as she extracts herself from the covers. He doesn’t look, keeps his back stiff, gaze directed at the floor as she goes about dressing behind him.

She returns to his side, clothed and eyes adverted. “I won’t tell a soul.”

He regards her with shocked disbelief. “You mean that?”

“You love him. This, whatever it was, doesn’t change that. You won’t leave him for me.”

He apologizes quietly, doesn’t apologize about anything specific, just murmurs those two painfully inadequate words because he’s not sure what else to say.

She doesn't acknowledge him, dips her chin and murmurs, “You should go.”

He leaves.

 

***

 

He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to tell Thomas or not.

He was stupid. He’s already aware it was a mistake, knows that he can’t let it happen again either.

Would it really be worth upsetting his alpha during his trip just so Alexander could feel better about himself?

Would he understand that it had started out completely innocent?

The screen of his phone lights up on his nightstand. Naïve and hopeful, Alex thinks that it’s a message from Thomas. He scrambles for the little black screen, swipes his thumb clumsily over the locked display, and frowns when he sees it. 

Unknown number.

Another text rolls in, the phone trembling in his palm. Gritting his teeth, Alex is a second away from chucking the damned thing across the room, hopeful that his phone will shatter into a million pieces on impact, but the device continues to vibrate, and instead he looks down and pauses.

What he sees leaves him with such an intense wave of panic that he stops breathing for a moment, the air trapped in his lungs as he reads.

 _Unknown_ – He knows.

 _Unknown_ – He had surveillance cameras installed in the apartment to keep tabs on me.

 _Unknown_ – There’s footage of you entering and leaving, there are timestamps.

He replies immediately, paranoia poisoning his thoughts, dread pooling in his stomach.

Are you okay? – He types out.

He didn’t hurt me, is her reply.

His relief is short lived.

Were you in on this? – He types out.

Don’t lie. – He presses send and waits.

 _Unknown_ – I swear, I didn’t know.

Three dots appear, but he doesn’t wait for her to continue.

What is he going to do? – He types back.

What does he want? – He clarifies.

Three dots and then…

 _Unknown_ – He wants money.

Of course.

He saw their apartment, knows that they’re struggling. This man’s silence could be bought.

She sends him the file.

He clicks on it and watches a grainy but recognizable image of Maria and himself entering the apartment, her in her nightgown, his arms around her. The footage jumps forward and it’s just him, clothes rumpled, hair a knotted mess, exiting the apartment alone. There’s nothing explicit but it’s damning enough that he shakes as he drags the file into the trash icon. He deletes the email, empties his trash, and slams his laptop shut.

He sends a text.

He’s going to bury this.

No one needs to know.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes. This was a difficult chapter to pop out.


	6. Alexander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've got nothing. They know _nothing_. But it's tricky.

It shouldn’t come as such a surprise when James Monroe and the rest of his two-bit, bottom feeding cronies approach him one evening, waving papers, and throwing their weight around like he would crumble under the pressure.

They think they’ve caught him, that they’ve finally ensnared the US Treasurer in a scandal the likes that would be enough to send him packing.

They’ve got nothing. They know nothing.

But it’s tricky.

His reputation is on the line.

So, he unearths his shame and displays it to Monroe and his men with gritted teeth, watches their faces morph from assured triumph to resigned distaste and disappointment. They look upon him with something like pity, their mouths twisted up in ugly lines.

He returns home disgusted with himself, goes straight for their bedroom in a bid to avoid Thomas’s questioning gaze, but is forced to cross him in their living room.

He can feel the alpha’s searching eyes on the back of his head, knows that his lips are set in a firm grim line and that he doesn’t believe a word of Alexander’s hasty excuse but that he’s too polite to call him out on his cowardice, too trusting to act on his own misgivings.

I don’t deserve you, he thinks for the millionth time.

He shuts the door behind him too quickly to come across as casual and struggles to move any further from there.

He looks down, breathes through his nose, and tries to calm his treacherous heartbeat.

Reminds himself that adultery wasn’t a factor for public examination, it wasn’t a crime, no one could charge him with betraying the trust of the people and that’s what was important.

He had done the responsible thing, vindicated himself, and silenced his opponents at the cost of his privacy.

Right?

Still, Alexander reasons, clarity a sobering presence as he mules over his options now that the initial panic has passed. Monroe and his supporters could use this as leverage, lord their newly acquired insight into his intimate activates as some sort of bargaining chip to use at their whim. A favor here or there in exchange for their continued cooperation. 

They would, Alexander realizes, and then what would he be? Another politician selling his ideals in the pursuit of selfish gains? For what? Personal security? 

His honesty was the defining trait that people would consider above all else; if it got out that he had caved under the threat of blackmail he’d lose everything he spent a lifetime building for himself in a moment.

And that would not do.

Resolved, he goes to his desk. He writes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't looked at this story in awhile, but I had some stuff written for it that I'll try and post. Sorry about the short length!


	7. Thomas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His heart works itself into a thunderous trill as he switches over to his email and that’s when he sees it, scrolling down the contents of his inbox.
> 
> There’s an email from Alex.

Reception on Thomas’s commute is generally spotty at best, so he doesn’t even know about the email until he’s jogging up the subway stairs.

It happens like this.

One moment he’s checking his calendar and the next he’s thumbing through an explosion of texts that have sent his phone into a near constant hum.

_I’m so sorry to hear the news._

_Please, whatever you need, my door is always open._

_I’ve always thought that you deserved better._

Thomas doesn’t understand.

Each text alludes to some unspeakable tragedy, vague enough that he can’t unfold the mystery within the lines but clear enough in tone to denote that whatever the occurrence, something has gone horribly wrong.

His heart works itself into a thunderous trill as he switches over to his email and that’s when he sees it, scrolling down the contents of his inbox.

There’s an email from Alex.

He notices that the email is addressed to the office-wide address, the one that automatically includes everyone in Washington’s team, and for a moment, Thomas breathes.

It’s just a work emergency, he thinks. Whatever it is can be fixed.

His thumb hesitates over the header for only a second.

Then he clicks. 

He reads.

There are lines that stand out.

_The charge against me is a connection with one James Reynolds for purposes of improper speculation. My real crime is an amorous relationship with his wife._

He feels off kilter, like he doesn’t understand the words and it makes his head hurt unpleasantly.

_My bondmate being absent on work._

He squeezes the phone between his fingers and the screen turns blessedly black.

Thomas blinks and looks up at the sky.

The sun shines down on his face, the warmth on his skin an odd contrast to the numbness that pervades his lungs. 

He reaches up and wipes away the dampness from his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two short chapters at once! Eek.


	8. Thomas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas gets to say his part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for another rough chapter. Eek.

 

Thomas calls James first.

Tells him that he won’t be coming in today, suspects that he already knows why, and proceeds to not say much else.

James tells him to call him again when he’s ready. Tells him to take care of himself and leaves it at that.

Thomas ends the call and heads back down into the subway stairway.

Ever a glutton for punishment, he slides his phone back out from his pocket once he back on the train and brings Alex’s email back up, reads through the document from start to finish, and then goes back into his own text thread with his bondmate and tries to match up the timelines, tries to make sense of his paranoia newly justified, tries to align his crumbling calm with this new reality. 

He feels the train cars tremble as they approach his stop and it takes a herculean effort to steer his body across the platform and up the steps onto his street. He pauses outside his building and wonders if there’s a way that he can just skip this part, fast forward past this slice of his day, and continue on, unfettered by the confrontation that awaits him, but things are never that easy and avoidance only works for so long.

He’s barely through the front door when he sees Alexander by the window, staring worriedly into the street. Thomas distantly thinks that Alexander must have watched him struggle with himself just to get up the stoop and he’s curious how that made Alexander feel to witness.

The omega turns to him with an uncharacteristic degree of hesitation; like he himself is dreading what they both know is to come.

“Hi,” Thomas says dully, his eyes falling to the disheveled way Alexander’s jacket sits on his frame, the way his face pinches severely at his brow and around his mouth.

“You look like shit,” Thomas continues flatly before walking fully into the apartment, circumventing the omega and disappearing into their bedroom.

“Can we talk?” Alexander asks from somewhere behind him, his voice sounding utterly weak, but Thomas can’t find it within himself to care. He’s on autopilot as he pulls their closet open, sliding his luggage off of the top shelf. The customs tags from his trip are still wrapped around the handle and there’s something funny about that but he can’t pick apart what it is just yet.

“Now you want to talk,” he mumbles, tossing the empty case onto the bed. He’s careful not to look up as he begins opening drawers.

There’s an unspoken request for space, for silence, but Alex treads over it.

“Thomas, listen. I never wanted you to find out like this. It just happened. Just let me explain it to you. I owe you that, right? We can work this out, I just need to—”

Thomas feels a slightly hysterical laugh begin to build up in his throat but he bites it down, can’t let himself be that person just yet. There’s things he needs to do before he lets this break him.

“What’s there left to communicate?” A jacket and some under vests get thrown in the trunk. “You cheated and you made sure that everyone in our lives is well aware of that fact.”

“I fucked up.” Alex tries to move closer, and Thomas can feel the effort in which the omega tries to catch his eye. He doesn’t allow it. “I was exhausted, and there was all this pressure with my bill and I missed you. I didn’t think it’d be so bad. But now— now, it’s over, I—”

“Is this why you’ve been so distant with me for the past few weeks? Because you felt guilty?”

“I—” 

“I can’t fully express how _awful_ that was,” Thomas interrupts. “You put me in this place where I had to start wondering what I had done to turn you away. You had me thinking I’d failed you somehow, but you knew this whole time…”

“I wanted you to know first, but there wasn’t time.” The omega straightens his shoulders, finding a shred of resolve. “I had to protect myself.”

“From me?”

“From those fucking vultures.” Alex hisses. “Not from you. Never from you.”

“And why not?” Thomas asks. “Did you think this bond made you infallible? That I’d stick with you regardless of the shit you pull? That you get to run around on me and I’ll just sit in the back of your dresser until you’re feeling up to treating me with your attentions?”

“Of course not. Thomas, please.”

Thomas hates it, hates what’s happened, hates what the pain and anger and betrayal in his chest had made him into in this moment, but he can’t stop it. He can’t and he doesn’t want to. 

“I don’t know what’s going through your head anymore,” he admits. “I don’t know how you got to this point where you could pretend like this wasn’t going to kill me. You’d rather share your most intimate secrets with our coworkers, with our boss, with some stranger rather than with me.”

“Thomas…” 

Thomas pulls out his phone and recites.

“ _Thomas doesn’t understand my hesitance, thinks me selfish most likely, mistakes my lack of warmth in regard to children as a moral failing. How do I tell him that parenthood would be the final shackle?_ ”

“You would tell this woman of such personal, intimate things?” His screen goes blessedly black and takes the words away with it. “You never told me you felt that way. But you told her. You gave her pieces of yourself I never had access to.”

“It wasn’t like that at all.” Alex insists, shaking. “Look, I want to talk this out.”

“Oh, I bet you do,” Thomas sneers. “I’m sure you think you can talk through whatever could’ve been going through your head at the time, and fix this with your words somehow because that’s how you’ve wriggled out of everything your entire life, but I can’t imagine a scenario where your excuses will work this time. I’m drawing a blank on how that one plays.”

Alex throws his hands in the air. “I can’t justify it, I’m not trying to. It was a mistake, and I wish I could take it back. It was a one-time thing that went too far. I just spiraled.”

And then Thomas proceeds to watch, brittle and unbelieving as Alexander outlines his month of deceit. How he got entangled with the idea of a lost and lonely girl who only saw the best parts of him, who ignored the bad, who was easy and charming and unburdened by— and here Alex fumbles, can’t or won’t articulate the thoughts clearly swimming through his mind.

“I don’t—” Alex stammers. “No. I, uh— I thought it was over. I ended things before you came back, made it clear that it was a mistake and I thought that would be the end of it but then her husband came after me, threatened to out me, made it seem like I’d mismanaged government funds. It would have been the end. I had to clear my name.”

Thomas stares at the side of the omega’s face, his stomach doing backflips as his mind tries to decipher whether Alexander is telling the truth. He hates that he can no longer tell.

He turns to face Alexander again, searching for some sign of whether this is real, or just another lie on top of all the others. A twitch, a quirk, a something. But he gets nothing more, just a pale, worried expression, which just makes him angrier as he thinks about what a mess this is.

“I come home and you put up this front like you’re happy to see me, you don’t say a word about her, about what she was to you while I was away. Why would you do that? I read the email, Alex. All the texts exchanges you included. It seems like you two were happy, and like I interrupted something you wanted, like I forced a life on you that you hadn’t consented to and wanted desperately out of. So, why bother with the act? Why keep things going?”

Alexander visibly winces but he chokes out his reply nonetheless. “Because you’re my alpha, and I love you.”

“Fuck you,” Thomas bites back. 

“I fucked up, okay? I fucked up really bad; I’m not ignorant to that. But I’m still the same person. I’m still the person you bonded with. I’m stupid and insecure and I don’t mean to be, but I love you Thomas. I love you.”

“We’ve been here before, Alex. We keep making this same mistake over and over again.” Thomas feels the tremors like a distant thing. “We agreed; no secrets, no exceptions. But look where we are, again. You say you’re the same person I bonded with, but are you really? The person I made this bond with wouldn’t have broke my heart by inches for weeks, having me wondering if I was crazy when he was the one that fucked up. The person I committed myself to would never turn around and do something like this. So how could you be the same person, Alex? How do you figure that?”

“I made a mistake.”

“Yeah, apparently I made one too.”

“Don’t say that.” Alex pleads brokenly and Thomas begins to wonder how much of the tears are real, how put on the slight wobble goes through the omega’s lips, because his darling boy is an actor and the performance he’s been giving for the last couple months must have been a test of endurance and it’s hard to tell where the breaks in character are without the shuddering of curtains to call an end to this act.

“Why not? We’re bonded, Alex. I took all my feelings, my wants and needs, my desires, my hopes, and I buried them inside you. Do you know what the means? Do you understand what I’d do for you?” Thomas sighs, tired. “Maybe you do. Maybe you did and you just didn’t care.” 

Alex slumps, doesn’t know what to say to make Thomas believe him. “You’re just going to leave?”

“No. This is for you.”

“It’s your suitcase.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Thomas says, and his voice is calm. It’s perhaps the only calm thing about Thomas right now. “I think you should go now.”

“Thomas—”

“Alexander.” The name, once a gift, now sits like ash in his mouth. He jerks his head toward the door. “Get out.”

 

***

 

He cries until the tears feel too indulgent to sustain and then he sits and just forces his lungs to comply, forcing hiccupping breathes passed his lips, one gulp of air at a time.

He think’s of Maria’s hands on Alexander’s slim waist, her mouth on his neck, Alexander’s head thrown back in the kind of ecstasy that is supposed to be Thomas’s only to provide. He shudders and feels ill. None of it feels real. 

He had been that one person, that one person to fill an endless list of needs. He had been the lover, the best friend, the trusted confidant, the emotional companion, the intellectual equal. Thomas had taken each role in stride. Picked each one up and said I’m it. 

I’m chosen. Unique.

I’m indispensible, I’m irreplaceable.

But no, the infidelity tells him he’s not. 

He blocks Alex’s number on his phone.

There’s useless rumination and then there’s constructive anguish, so he chooses that and gets up.

He still paces around their— no, _his_ room a few times before he actually makes a decision on what to do first.

He calls up Laurens, almost asks him if Alexander is with him but stifles the impulse at the last second, and instead inquires whether he’d be able to come over later in the day to collect a few of Alexander’s things, alone. Laurens is indulgent and abiding in a way that sets Thomas at ease even if only for a moment.

He borrows some boxes from a friendly old beta from down the hallway, politely ignores her when she asks after Alex, but promises to bring her some of the jam cookies that she likes later in the week as repayment. She’s sweet and inoffensive when she brushes him off, telling Thomas in an endearing lilt how he’s one of the good ones, that she’d snap him up in a heartbeat if she had a chance. Thomas buries his hurt in a polite smile and wishes her a good day before he disappears from her sitting room and back to his own apartment.

It’s time to move on.

He’s packing the lifetime he thought he’d share with Alexander away into carefully constructed cardboard when a knock sounds from the front door.

Thomas is wary enough to check through the eyehole first, but what he sees is a worried smile and a bag of greasy fast food waving at him in fish lens distortion, and he wastes no time in undoing the deadbolt and lets the omega inside.

James flings himself into Thomas’s arms, curls into hollow part of his chest and hums comfortingly. 

“Oh honey.” James puts a hand on his back.

“I’m fine.”

“Good,” James replies, but he doesn’t move his hand from where it’s resting against the alpha’s spine.

James forces him to eat at least half of the burger the omega brought him and an hour into the movie, Thomas starts to feel a little mellow after the third glass of wine is drained and refilled for his fourth.

He trips as walks back to the couch and nearly spills the whole glass on the floor.

James snatches the wine from his hand.

“Hey! I was drinking that!” Thomas protests.

James looks at him. He doesn’t give the glass back.

 


	9. Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s broken. The space between them now is vast. The separation is like that from a limb. Neither is sure they’ll survive it.

 

He’s slumped over, paralyzed on a street corner for the better part of an hour, suitcase unattended a few paces back from where he’s collapsed onto a bus stop bench.

Alexander has enough common sense to check his phone, but dreads what he’ll find. He unlocks his screen and goes to the most recent texts from John, and reads, swallowing around the panic.

_Tell me where you are and I’ll come get you._

Alex drops a pin, his body wracked by another bout of dry sobs. He fits his face into the palms of his hands and wills his lungs into action.

John finds him like that, crumpled inward and pitiful. He scoops Alex up with that deceptive strength of his and abandons him in the passenger seat of his car without comment. The door slaps close behind him, and Alex distantly hears the other man wrestle his suitcase into the trunk, before appearing back at the front.

John slips his key into the ignition but doesn’t turn the engine on right away. He just looks at him, without words. 

Alex can barely meet his eyes. “You’re not going to say anything?”

John doesn’t offer much back. “Do you want me to?”

Alex shrugs. "I don't really think I deserve comforting right now, do you?"

"Would you like me to yell at you?" John asks him, but there's a tease in his voice, just barely there, and his expression twitches into something strained with concern. "Alex..."

"He won't take me back after this." Alex interrupts. "He's too smart. He doesn't have to settle for someone like me, you know? He could do so much better." 

John makes a pained noise and reaches for Alex, squeezing his shoulder soothingly. “Nothing you could say or do could be so bad that he would stop loving you.”

But Alex shrugs, and turns his face toward the window, hiding tears that he can't stop from falling. “Love isn’t always enough.”

 

***

 

His phone vibrates and Thomas stills when he sees the caller ID flash across the screen. He snatches at his phone and answers.

“Thom—”

“Did you know?” Thomas asks, jumping over Lafayette’s cooing tone.

“Mon ami, I never would have kept something like this from you.”

Thomas bites at his lip, and wanders distractedly around the living room of his apartment.

“Before you were my friend, you were his.” Thomas quips back humorlessly. “And so I’ll ask again because if I don’t, I’ll never know for sure. I’ll always have doubts. Did you know?”

Lafayette huffs into the receiver, exasperated, and the sound of harsh air fills Thomas’s ear.

“I did not.” Thomas feels his body sag with relief. “Mon cher, I am so sorry.”

And then it feels as though Thomas’s body is weighed down by something else. 

He frowns. “Why are you sorry? I only lost a man who didn’t love me.” 

Thomas twists a finger around an errant curl and pulls. “You should call Alexander. See how he’s doing. He’s the one who lost someone who loved him.”

Over the line, Lafayette coos in his ear, imparts pleasantries and pretty words that mean very little but at least have the effect of making Thomas feel just a little better. For now at least.

 

***

 

Thomas goes back to work.

James helps with the transition. Helps in the ways that he can, anyway.

But every moment hurts. Every glance at the office door across from his own is complete agony, and as childish as it is, Thomas adverts his eyes.

They still work together. That much hasn’t changed.

As shattering as the break between them has been, neither he nor Alex would ever allow something like this to affect their work.

But “together” is now subjective. They work in the same building, but never in the same room. They collaborate on projects, but only over email. They are ghosts, present but intangible, and for now, that’s how Thomas needs things to be.

He can maintain this act that things aren’t so bad, but only so long as the stage is set.

In typical Hamilton fashion though, Alex doesn’t honor Thomas’s need for space long. He pokes his head in, vies for Thomas’s attention like he hungers for it, with little consideration for how Thomas will react.

Luckily, James is scary when he wants to be and he’s taken to guarding Thomas like he’s some sort of damsel in need of protection.

“He doesn’t want to see you.” Thomas hears James his from outside his office door.

And Alexander, quick to argue, persists. “I just want to speak to him, maybe if we—.”

“Hamilton, he said no.” James returns, giving no quarter. “And I’m telling you now, that every time you trample over his wants and needs to satisfy your own, you lose another part of him. You prove that you are the type of man who makes this kind of mistake twice because all you ever think about is yourself, so back the fuck up and go back to your own office. If you harass him again, I will bring it up with Washington and you won’t be allowed back in the building for another week. Do I make myself clear?”

There’s mumbling through the door that not even Thomas can make out, but James emerges through the doors alone, with an annoyed scowl on his face that insistently dissipates once his eyes fall on Thomas.

“He’s gone now.” James says, tries to smile kindly but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Alex is gone, Thomas reminds himself.

 


	10. Alexander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex comes to collect his stuff, but things get emotional.

 

It’s another week of radio silence after the incident with Madison at the office before Alex gets any word from his alpha.

It’s not much, and Alex feels foolish to have hoped for anything more, but he’s sent a string of disjointed texts one Sunday afternoon, and his heart lurches uncomfortably at the sight of them, chest tight as he reads the three messages that appear on his screen. His eyes slide across the words with an eagerness that only a few weeks prior he would’ve found profoundly embarrassing. In hindsight, it all matters very little now.

 _Thomas_ \- Your things are still here.

 _Thomas_ \- I haven’t changed the locks.

 _Thomas_ \- Today is as good as any.

Alex gets the gist.

He knew this step would come sooner or later, but it still hurts knowing things are truly over.

He folds his laptop shut, and grabs his keys from the key bowl in John’s entryway, leaving with an air of tired resignation. 

The train ride is short and uneventful, and his thoughts a grinding mess the whole way. Even as he steps off at his stop, the familiarity grates on his nerves as he walks down what used to be _their_ street, and up the stairs of what used to be _their_ building.

He opens the door to the apartment that used to be theirs too, and starts violently when he’s met with Thomas’s wide-eyed expression, the alpha shocked into stillness at the sight of him. 

“I didn’t think you’d be here.” Alex begins uncertainly. He can’t help but glance around the place, eyes sweeping over the apartment in search of the changes that might have occurred in his absence. “Your text said—”

“I would’ve thought you’d reply before coming here.” Thomas grits out before he can finish. He looks somewhere behind Alex longingly and then drops his gaze to the floor. “I would’ve stepped out.”

The warmth that takes his cheeks is unexpected and mortifying. “I’m sorry.”

Thomas nods at his words, running his tongue over his teeth absentmindedly. “Great, cool apology.”

It’s like being slapped. Alex bites into his lip, bracing against the effect a mild dismissal from his alpha has on him. “I’m trying, you know,” he says defensively, doing his best to keep his tone moderated and non-accusatory.

He swallows uncomfortably, and admits, “I didn’t think you’d be like this.”

The alpha raises a skeptical eyebrow and looks up. “Like what?”

“Bitter.” Alex lets slip, unsure how else to put it.

The alpha’s lips quirk at the comment, but his gaze remains flat and humorless. “And how’d you imagine this going?”

That puts whatever resentment he feels building in his chest come to a certain and abrupt halt.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says again, despite himself, his voice sounding caught on the phrase. “I really am sorry.”

The alpha exhales loudly, like he’s suffering through something repellant. He turns then, retreating back inside, away from Alex, probably with the intention of closing himself off in his room until this unpleasant ordeal is over, and the omega is once again nothing more than a distant, disappointing memory. 

“I don’t know if that matters.” Is what he finally says, halfway down the hall, and even though he’s prepared for it, Alex flinches.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Alex calls after him, standing in the still open doorway, feeling like little more than scum tarnishing the alpha’s floors. “I really fucked you over, didn’t I?” 

Deep within the apartment, Thomas turns, and looks at him with carefully blank eyes. He’s quiet, and the silence invites Alex to continue, so he does.

“I let you fall in love with me, even though you didn’t really know me. And now you know me, and we’re left with _this_ ,” he gestures at the space between them, “and I am so incredibly sorry about that.” Alex nods his head nervously, and looks away. “I just want you to know that I never meant to bury the lead about who I was. I should have never let it get this far.”

When Thomas whirls around, his expression no longer distant but contorted with anger.

“That’s what you’ve got to say to me?” Thomas hisses at him, hackles raised. “You don’t think I knew the worst parts of you? You don’t think I already knew you were loud and abrasive, willfully and intolerantly arrogant, and painfully insecure in your own worth?” He snorts meanly and his eyes flash with derision that reminds Alex of their start, of where they used to be and have now returned. “How could I not?”

He thinks he must be acclimating to harsh words though, because Alex lets the pain wash over him with a kind of openness that feels foreign but necessary, accepting the blows as they come, and breathing through them the best he can. 

“It’s a wonder you stayed with me as long as you did then,” He says agreeably, in what he hopes is a deferential tone. 

He thinks he manages it too, but the alpha huffs, eyes scanning Alex with a dissatisfied look. “And to think, I wanted to stay forever,” Thomas replies, and that one lands a little harder than the rest, and the omega winces reflexively. “And you’re wrong, by the way. I just thought that after everything we’ve been through that you’d trust me enough to be honest with me and not give me these chicken shit excuses anymore.”

The beginning of a migraine begins to creep up behind Alex’s eyes, and his brow furrows in discomfort. “I’m trying to be honest with you. I’m _agreeing_ with you.” He runs a hand through his loose, unkempt locks and lets out a long breath. “I’m an insecure, shitty, loud-mouthed brat who doesn’t know when to stop, and you’re right to want nothing to do with me.” 

“Don’t.” Thomas cuts him off. “You’re digging for pity points.” 

“I’m not.” Alex denies quickly, not quite understanding the push back he’s getting here.

The alpha tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “You felt insecure?” He asks. “Is that your way of telling me that somewhere along the way in our relationship being with me made you feel small? I didn’t worship you enough? I didn’t get down on my knees for you enough? Was I not in awe of your brilliance? Not vocal enough with my praise, my admiration?” Thomas’s expression sobers, and he pulls his shoulders back, creating some of the distance he had inadvertently filled between them. “Or did you think I was being disingenuous about it all?”

Frustration and despair war within him and Alex grits his teeth in annoyance at what is becoming a distressing theme in the narrative Thomas has built.

“It wasn’t _you_.” He shouts then, choosing volume as a means to get his point across since logic doesn’t seem to be getting the job done at this junction. “There wasn’t anything you could have done differently. It was _me_. It was all me. I’m too broken to be the person you deserve.” His chest heaves.

Thomas doesn’t seem to like that at all.

“That wasn’t for you to decide!” He snaps loudly, and stops there, seemingly surprised by his outburst. 

“I was happy,” he says a moment later, softer, “But you obviously weren’t. Not fully. You had reservations and I didn’t know.” Alex watches as his alpha’s shoulders droop, and his scent sours considerably. “That much is on me.”

“No.” Alex denies again, and it’s worse, this. The doubt the alpha seems to nurse like a wound. It’s misplaced, and it’s the biggest gag of this whole fucked up situation, because it was Alex who was lacking, wasn’t it? It was Alex who couldn’t keep it together for two fucking months and who let their love dissolve into this painful mess they’ve found themselves in. Not Thomas, never Thomas. “I could’ve been better.” He says in a gasp, his emotions making his tongue clumsy and uncooperative. “I should’ve been. But I—” His heart thumps painfully in his chest and he can’t finish the thought. “Fuck.”

His vision blurs and he stumbles, but Thomas is there.

Thomas pulls him into an embrace and holds him too tight, but Alex just clings back almost as fiercely, and struggles to swallow around the sudden tightness in his throat. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he feels clever fingers rubbing circles on his back and a soft humming noise filling his ears. 

“Calm down.” The alpha instructs softly, and gentle fingers come up to frame his face for a moment, tilting his chin up and pulling him close. “Hey, breathe. Look at me and breathe.”

He’s feeling just the wrong side of faint when Thomas begins modeling his own breathing for him to follow, and slowly Alex gets his lungs under control, feels the ground still beneath him and his vision rights itself.

“Alex.” Thomas says after some time passes and Alex is feeling steady. “I’m sorry I told you that you could come today. We’ll try again, I’ll make sure I’m out.” 

Thomas is, of course, frustratingly levelheaded, and it makes Alex both furious and a second away from fresh tears simultaneously. “I didn’t mean for any of this. I don’t like seeing you in pain. That was never something I wanted.”

It sounds diplomatic to Alex’s ears. Appropriate.

He loathes the words all the same.

“What can I do?” Alex says under his breath, voice barely audible. “Tell me what I can do.”

And Thomas, exasperated and wary, replies, “You can give me space. Other than that, I don’t know.”

Alex begins to reply with something in protest, but stops himself just short of the actual words.

Above him, Thomas sighs again, the air escaping his lungs all at once, and Alex rocks with the motion. “I’m calling Laurens. You shouldn’t be by yourself.”

He feels Thomas shift as he reaches for his phone, and it only takes the alpha a moment to explain the situation to John before he shifts again, his arm coming back to rub soothing circles into the omega’s back.

On an impulse, Alex says, “When you were in France, I was by myself.” 

He’s absurdly proud of the fact that his voice doesn’t shake like he expects it to. He sounds level to his own ears, strangely composed, like he’s peeled off all the pitiful trappings Thomas has accused him of dawning only moments ago. 

Alex takes a chance all the same, slides his fingers over one of the alpha’s wrist in a gentle glide of skin on skin, and tilts his head just so, just enough so that their eyes meet for a moment before they both look away. He hadn’t missed the look of unease that had passed over the alpha’s face at the action, hadn’t missed the subtle shudder of breath either. He removes his hand, and accepts what Thomas is willing to offer and nothing more.

“Just me and my thoughts and the idea of you to keep me company,” he continues after the awkwardness passes. “The bond was so fresh. Maybe I wasn’t ready for that kind of test.”

Thomas’s touch stutters along his back and Alex cringes. “I was handling it, until I wasn’t. I tried to tell you once,” He taps his forehead against the alpha’s collarbone and shudders. “But I wasn’t ready to confront how dependent on you I had become. I was terrified of what that meant. Pride made a coward of me.” 

He inhales the rich scent of the alpha and laments the life that could have been his, “I wish I could take it all back.”

And then Thomas says, "I wish you could too.”

And to Alex’s ears, it doesn’t sound like a lie.

But outside a horn honks, and Thomas pulls away.

He lets go, and Alex reminds himself, that it was him that pulled away first.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this is going somewhere! Thanks for tuning in when you do, I've got an end goal, but getting there is work!


End file.
